Bad Idea Gone Write
by Random42
Summary: Response to an old bx_fanfic challenge. Utter and complete nonesense.


Bad Idea Gone Write  
  
by Random  
  
***  
  
DISCLAIMER: "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" and all its characters are the  
property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, 20th Century Fox and the WB  
Network.  
SUMMARY: My response to TJ's challenge.  
RATING: I, for utterly and completely insane.  
DISTRIBUTION: Oh, yeah! Mock my beans!  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: "Of all the things I've lost I miss my mind the most."  
-Steven Tyler  
  
This story was written about a year ago in response to a challenge on  
the bx_fanfic list. The story had to contain:  
  
A reference to Dawson's Creek  
A comic book convention  
A Disney character  
A reference to the Powerpuff Girls  
A giant bulldog  
A nest  
Cordelia insulting sombody  
A Lamborghini  
Jar-Jar Binks  
  
***  
  
"Oh, come on!" Spike could hear Giles call from the kitchen. "You have  
to tell me."  
  
"No way!" Spike retorted. "If you want to know so badly you should have  
been around to see things happen for yourself."  
  
"I've told you a million times that I was working," Giles fumed. "I  
couldn't possibly have seen it!"  
  
"Work?" Spike scoffed. "You call that work? You sit in a coffeehouse  
with a bunch of hippies and peacenicks, strum your guitar and sing a few  
weak songs."  
  
"Hey, at least I'm doing something. I don't see you making any money."  
  
"You're making money because you sold out! Shame on you! What would  
your idols say? You know, Mozart, Mendelsson, Motörhead?"  
  
"You're right," Giles conceded, hanging his head in defeat. "I did sell  
out. How can I ever forgive myself? From now on I'll play nothing but  
Cheap Trick covers."  
  
"That's the spirit," Spike grinned.  
  
"So will you finally tell me what happened last week on Dawson's Creek?"  
  
*Ding!*  
  
"Did you hear something go 'ding'?" Spike asked a little on the  
befuddled side.  
  
"What?" Giles yelled back over the sound of the blender. After a moment  
or two he shut off the appliance. "Did you say something? I couldn't  
hear you, I'm making Margaritas."  
  
"Nothing," Spike shook his head. "Get me one of those, there's a good  
chap."  
  
"Only if you tell me what happened."  
  
"Oh, come on!" Spike yelled indignantly.  
  
"Maybe I'll make myself a Bloody Mary instead. With the blood somebody  
is keeping in my fridge!" Giles threatened.  
  
"Alright, alright," Spike said throwing up his arms. "Dawson drowned."  
  
"He what?" Giles asked, walking into the room with two glasses and  
handing one to Spike.  
  
"He drowned," Spike said matter-of-factly taking a sip off his drink.  
  
"How did that happen?" Giles inquired parking his butt on a comfy chair,  
the likes of which were much favored by the Spanish Inquisition.  
  
"They were at this comic book convention."  
  
*Ding!* My apologies to Silence for shamelessly ripping that idea off.  
  
"There was this guest appearance by Sebastian the Crab."  
  
*Ding!*  
  
"I'm sure I heard something go 'ding' this time!" Spike said with  
conviction. He looked at Giles for corroboration but found the watcher  
looking very much lost in his thoughts. "Giles?"  
  
"Huh?" Giles asked, snapping back to the problem at hand. "Sorry, I was  
just thinking of that song Sebastian sang."  
  
"Oh, yeah," Spike answered, has face splitting in a grin. " 'Under the  
Sea'."  
  
"Yeah!" Giles nodded. And then he sang, "Under the sea!"  
  
Spike joined in, "Under the sea."  
  
They both jumped out of their seats and did little dances as they belted  
out the lyrics. "Darling it's better down where it's wetter, take it  
from me!"  
  
Unbeknownst to the two aspiring crustaceans the front door opened and in  
walked Buffy, Willow and Xander. The display before them shocked them  
so much that they stood, speechless, by the door.  
  
"Up on the shore they work all day," Giles and Spike sang on. "Out in  
the sun they slave aw-" They stopped dead in their tracks when they  
noticed they now had an audience. They quickly scurried back to their  
seats and looked at the newcomers sheepishly.  
  
Spike was the first one to speak up. "Well, if it isn't the Powerpuff  
Girls."  
  
*Ding!*  
  
"Hey!" Xander protested. "And did something just go 'ding'?"  
  
"Come on, Xander," Willow teased. "You love the Powerpuff girls."  
  
"Okay," Xander conceded. "But I get to Buttercup. She's my favorite."  
  
"Well, you have the dark hair after all," Buffy grinned.  
  
"Does that mean I have to be Blossom?" Willow asked. Her two cohorts  
nodded. "No fair," the redhead one pouted.  
  
Xander spied the blender in the kitchen. "Ooh, Margaritas!" he yelped.   
"Blossom! Bubbles! To the kitchen!"  
  
And with that the three disappeared into the kitchen.  
  
Giles leaned over to Spike and whispered to him, "So how did Dawson  
drown?"  
  
"He got so excited about a My Little Pony exhibit that he fell into the  
fountain." The vampire shrugged. "Quite ironic if you ask me. He's  
got a creek named after him and he drowns in six inches of water."  
  
The three teenagers, now each armed with a Margarita, soon joined the  
ex-watcher and the vampire and sat around the coffee table.  
  
"So anything new and exciting happen?" Xander asked.  
  
"Dawson drowned," Giles blubbered, taking off his glasses to wipe away a  
tear.  
  
"No, I meant if anything of importantce to *this* TV-show happened?"  
Xander specified.  
  
"Nothing since Riley got eaten by a giant bulldog," Spike chimed in for  
the momentarily incapacitated ex-watcher.  
  
*Ding!*  
  
"Well, nothing besides something continuously going 'ding', anyway,"  
Spike clarified.  
  
"Oh, Buffy," Willow spoke up, "I forgot to tell you."  
  
Buffy raised her eyebrows at her roommate in expectation.  
  
"You know your blue canary?"  
  
"I have a bird?" Buffy asked slightly baffled.  
  
"No," Willow said amidst much shaking of the head. "The blue canary in  
the outlet by the light switch, who watches over you. The one for whom  
you made a little birdhouse in your soul."  
  
"You mean my nightlight," Buffy said tentatively, wondering if Giles had  
a straightjacket.  
  
"Yes!," Willow exclaimed. "It built a nest!"  
  
*Ding!*  
  
"What?!" the other four people blurted out in unison.  
  
"Let me get this straight," Buffy said tentatively. "My blue,  
canary-shaped nightlight built a nest?"  
  
Willow nodded.  
  
"You are aware that what you said makes no sense," Xander inquired.  
  
Willow again made with the nodding.  
  
"Sounds like a gratuitous They Might Be Giants reference to me," Xander  
concluded.  
  
"What does it mean?" Buffy asked worriedly.  
  
"That somebody totally incompetent and demented is writing our  
dialogue," Xander said. "Not to mention the fact that the writer is  
obviously a complete stone bonker."  
  
UH-OH. I THINK THEY FOUND OUT ABOUT ME, a disembodied voice boomed.  
  
"Who said that?" the assembled cast exclaimed looking back and forth  
amongst themselves. For good measure they also looked around the room  
to assure themselves that nobody had crept in unnoticed.  
  
MAYBE IF I KEEP REAL QUIET THEY WON'T NOTICE.  
  
"Hey!," Spike spoke up. "Stop hiding. We can hear you!"  
  
OH, POOP! the voice said dejectedly, yet caps-locky. Quite a tricky  
combination if you ask me.  
  
"Who are you?" Giles asked. "Some kind of demon?"  
  
I AM THE WRITER. YOU DO WHAT I WRITE.  
  
"That is ludicrous," Spike yelled in full rebel mode. (Rebel Yell, get  
it? He's got the look for it!) "I am my own vampire, I do what I  
want!"  
  
OH, REALLY?  
  
Spike suddenly jumped out of his chair. "I'm a little teapot, short and  
stout," he sang, doing a little dance to accompany it. The others  
doubled over in laughter. There was also occasional slapping of the  
knee. "This is my handle, this is my spout," Spike continued, visibly  
trying to fight the singing and dancing, but losing the battle handily.   
"When I get all steamed up hear me shout. Pick me up and pour me out!"   
After he had finished he collapsed in his chair again.  
  
SEE?  
  
As everybody continued to laugh Spike turned a very bright shade of  
red. Quite a remarkable feat indeed, considering his heart doesn't  
beat.  
  
"So do you write everything we do?" Giles asked after everybody had  
sufficiently calmed down.  
  
YES, I DO.  
  
Xander jumped up out of his seat and said in his best defiant voice, "I  
have a bone to pick with you then!"  
  
YOU DO?  
  
"Yes," Xander bellowed. "I'm sick of just being the comic relief. And  
not having a meaningful job!"  
  
HOW ABOUT BEING THE LEAD SINGER OF YOUR VERY OWN BAND?  
  
"I would like that very much," Xander said a smile spreading on his  
face. And with that he launched into his own rendition of "I'm A Little  
Teapot". When he was done he sat back down in his chair.  
  
ANYBODY ELSE HAVE ANY COMPLAINTS?  
  
There was much shaking of the head all around. And also a lot of "No"s  
and "Not me"s.  
  
This was interrupted by the front door opening and Cordelia and Faith  
walking in.  
  
"What are they doing here?" Buffy asked.  
  
HEY! I LIKE THEM!  
  
"Oh, sorry," Buffy apologized and piped down.  
  
"Look at the assembled freak show," Cordelia commented.  
  
*Ding!*  
  
"Ooh, Margaritas," Faith exclaimed and the two girls scurried into the  
kitchen. Finally they joined the others around the coffee table.  
  
"The weirdest thing happened," Faith said amidst sips of her drink.   
"This policeman opens up the door to my cell and tells me I'm free to  
go. So I get all my stuff back and then he gives me, get this, the keys  
to a Lamborghini!"  
  
*Ding!*  
  
"Did something just go 'ding'?" Faith wondered. Then she shook her head  
and continued. "Anyway, so I get in the car, go pick up Cordy and we  
decided to drop by for a visit."  
  
"Oh, yeah, and Angel evaporated," Cordelia added helpfully.  
  
"Did you make all that happen?" Buffy asked looking up at the ceiling.  
  
"Who are you talking to, B?" Faith asked a little perturbed by her  
fellow slayer's odd behavior.  
  
I MAKE EVERYTHING HAPPEN.  
  
"Whoa, what did you put in these Margaritas?" Cordelia asked.  
  
No answer was given because something tall, thin and floppy eared came  
through the front door.  
  
"Hellooooooooo!" it went. "Meesa be Jar-Jar Binks."  
  
*Ding, ding, ding, ding, ding, ding, ding, ding, ding!*  
  
JAR-JAR BINKS?! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?  
  
"Meesa was fired from Star Wars, so meesa come visit," Jar-Jar answered.  
  
WAIT! I DON'T LIKE YOU! HOW COULD YOU GET HERE! I AM THE WRITER!   
ONLY WHAT I WANT HAPPENS!  
  
The human contingent saw their chance as the writer's grip on the  
situation faltered and made a mad dash past the intruding Gungan and out  
of the apartment. They then proceeded to pile into but mostly on top of  
the waiting Lamborghini (after all the car hadn't been conceived to  
transport seven people). With screeching tires they sped away.  
  
Jar-Jar stood by himself in Giles apartment slightly disoriented by the  
sudden flight of the occupants. "How rude," he commented.  
  
OH, DO SHUT UP.  
  
And with a giant foot trampled Jar-Jar with a flatulent noise, very much  
in the Monty Python tradition.  
  
***  
  
Okay, so who's gonna sign the papers to have me commited? 


End file.
